


Oil-Stained Stars

by JadeCharmer



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 12:22:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadeCharmer/pseuds/JadeCharmer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>When she opens the door, the Wonder Woman nightlight gives her enough light to see Bucky’s form curled up in the corner of their daughter’s bed against the wall, one of his arms curled up and behind his head. Their daughter is tucked into the nook of his shoulder, her tiny arms not even able to wrap halfway around his broad chest, but trying nonetheless.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oil-Stained Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Quick Darcy/Bucky family drabble because we always get to see Steve in family mode, but rarely do we get to see Bucky in that role. And I had an idea and, well, it just went from there.
> 
> Completely unbeta’d.

Darcy wakes up in the middle of the night, which isn’t all that unusual. Bucky isn’t on his side of the bed, which also isn’t unusual. He still has a hard time keeping regular hours, even though he’s cut back on the missions that inevitably throw off his schedule. SHIELD might have pitched a bit of a bitch fit, but Bucky had stood firm and told them it was either that or he walked. Steve said he'd walk with him. They shut up after that threat.

She fumbles for her bottle of water beside the bed, finding it empty when she tips it to her lips. After a moment of debate, she sighs and gets up to get another one in the kitchen. Dry mouth waits for no one.

Bucky isn’t there, and he isn’t in the living room. Her curiosity is raised now, and she hopes he hasn’t been having another bout of nightmares. They’ve been relatively quiet and, to be honest, she was kind of lured into a false sense of security. If he is fighting off the after-effects of a bad dream and he didn't wake her, he could be at the gym a few floors below. The one that only he and Steve use because it, according to Darcy, looks like the place where Rocky trained Million Dollar Baby. She got a blank look from both of them on those references, but that’s par for the course. Either way, the rest of the Tower occupants steer clear.

She’ll give him a bit of time, some space if he needs it, and if he’s not back by the time she wakes up in the morning, she’s going to track him down and make him talk.

Before going back to bed, she stops to poke her head in on their daughter. She’s been having trouble sleeping through the night, too much of a night owl like her father, for the past week. Darcy has found her, more than once, playing with her toys at two in the morning instead of tucked away fast asleep.

When she opens the door, the Wonder Woman nightlight gives her enough light to see Bucky’s form curled up in the corner of their daughter’s bed against the wall, one of his arms curled up and behind his head. Their daughter is tucked into the nook of his shoulder, her tiny arms not even able to wrap halfway around his broad chest, but trying nonetheless.

In the soft yellow-hued light, she can see stickers all up and down his metal arm that’s curled protectively around their daughter. There’s a heart drawing in oil crayon (thanks, Uncle Steve, for that particular present) on the shoulder where the red star used to hold prominent position. Bucky says he got rid of it to give their daughter a clean canvas to work on after she discovered how well oil showed up on the metal, but Darcy thinks there’s more to it. It was his final way of letting go of the past, making amends between who he was, both before and after the fall, and who he wanted to be.

There’s a scattering of other images that weren’t there when they went to bed just a few hours ago. Some flowers, suns, stars, and what looks like a mock stick figure painting starting at the crook of his elbow and going all the way down the entire length of his forearm to his wrist.

It looks like her two hoodlums were busy while she was sleeping, especially since some of those drawings look far too advanced for a toddler.

Stark complained about the wax in the creases of the metal the last time he had to do maintenance on Bucky’s arm, but Bucky merely shrugged off the man’s whining. He gave Darcy a little grin as Tony continued to rant about messing up his masterpiece. It was their kid’s favorite canvas. He wasn’t going to take that away, even if he had to listen to Stark bitch every week.

Bucky shifts in his sleep, probably aware on some level of her watching him, even as their daughter nuzzles in closer to his warmth. His eyes flutter open, his gaze darting around the room, immediately taking in stock for threats. She hates that it’s his automatic reaction, that his life has conditioned him this way. But it also makes her feel safe, that he’s always keeping an eye out, and part of her hates that, too, the pressure it puts on him. Steve might be the master of the guilt-complex, but Bucky can be a close second at times. Plus, he has Steve beat hand’s down on overprotective tendencies. But, despite all that, she wouldn’t change a thing. He wouldn’t be Bucky otherwise.

“Hi,” he whispers to her once he knows it’s safe. Darcy made sure not to move abruptly while he was still adjusting, knowing he’ll react automatically if he thinks his family is in danger.

She gives him a soft smile as she leans her head against the door frame. “Hi. Missed you.”

He lifts his head off his arm, grimacing at the stiffness in his shoulder from sleeping in such an awkward position. He might try to deny it, but even the Winter Soldier can get old. Or older, at least. She saw a few gray hairs the other morning, to her amusement and his adamant denial. She tried to tell him it gave him a distinguished air, but all she received was a sour look for her efforts. That was fine, though, she made sure to show him just how attractive she still found him later that night.

Arm freed, he runs his fingers lightly through their daughter’s hair, a dark mess of soft waves. He presses a kiss to the top of her head before he carefully extracts himself from her tiny embrace. She gives a soft noise of protest before rolling over, deciding to cuddle up with her Bucky Bear instead. Steve’s grin had a bit of a wicked edge to it when he gave that particular gift, especially after the murderous look Bucky shot in his direction when their daughter immediately latched on to it and refused to go anywhere without her bear. Meanwhile, with their daughter's attention refocused, Bucky the man slides out the end of the bed and follows Darcy out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“She couldn’t sleep,” he explains on the way back to their room. “Wanted just one more story.”

“After the three you read her when you first put her to sleep?” Darcy asks, teasing. Bucky is completely wrapped around their daughter’s finger. She loves that he’s not embarrassed about it, though, despite any teasing the others (Tony and Clint) might try to give him about it. She can see his heart in his eyes when he looks at her, and at their daughter, so different from that blank and shuttered gaze he wore for years after he was recovered by Steve. It's worth beyond words that he's able to not just feel that way, but let it show without worrying it'll be used against him. Her heart never stops clenching tight in her chest each time she catches those expressions of naked emotion on his handsome face.

“Didn’t work, anyway,” he confesses. He holds out his metal arm in front of them for Darcy's inspection, the hallway light making the figures more easily distinguished. “So I let her doodle for a little while and she fell right back to sleep. Remind me to ask Steve where he got those crayons. She’s gonna need more soon.”

Darcy hums in agreement. She rubs her thumb lightly over the drawing of their family on his lower arm. “She’s going to need a bigger canvas soon, too.”

Bucky pulls Darcy in close, hand resting lightly on the faint bump already outlined in her stolen t-shirt. While Bucky has remained noncommittal, she’s kind of hoping for a boy this time. With Bucky’s eyes and that wise-ass smile. But, another girl would be just as wonderful.

His hand rubs lightly over her stomach, even as he leans down to press a soft kiss to her lips. “We’ll make it work.”

Words to live by, Darcy thinks, resting her head on his shoulder.


End file.
